


(It's a) Monster's Holiday

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adoption, Anger, Aprons, Baking, Being Lost, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Candles, Christmas Lights, Christmas Miracles, Christmas Presents, Comfort Food, Concern, Cooking, Dessert & Sweets, Drabble Collection, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Hot Chocolate, Huddling For Warmth, Injury, Jealousy, Joyful, Laughter, Loneliness, Microfic, Mistletoe, Music, Nostalgia, One Big Happy Family, Ornaments, References to A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, Reunions, Scarves, Secrets, Sleigh Ride, Snow, Snowball Fight, Socks, Stargazing, Threats, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Wine, Wishes, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28281348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: A collection of Christmas microfics: Brief glimpses into the monsters' experience of the season, some for good and some for ill. (It's a balancing act between fluff and angst; enjoy my emotional whiplash.)
Relationships: Alphys & Papyrus (Undertale), Alphys & Undyne (Undertale), Asgore Dreemurr & Frisk, Asgore Dreemurr/Toriel, Everyone & Everyone, Frisk & Sans (Undertale), Grillby/Muffet (Undertale), Papyrus & Sans (Undertale), Papyrus & Undyne (Undertale), Sans & Undyne (Undertale)
Kudos: 37





	(It's a) Monster's Holiday

**Starry Night**

If there was anything that never lost its appeal between resets, it was the night sky. Scuffing his feet through the fallen snow on the sidewalk, Sans gazed up at the thousands, _millions_ of twinkling pearls spilled across the inky blackness. They were new every time he saw them.

Hopefully they would get to enjoy Gyftmas on the Surface, uninterrupted this time.

**Baking**

“These recipe writers have no consistency! How can we really be baking if they’re called ‘ _no-bake_ ’ cookies?!” Undyne scoffed as she slammed the bag of oats on the counter. It promptly split at the seam.

“I say we make our own improvements on this culinary foray!” Papyrus exclaimed. “Why make a simple batch of cookies when we have the means for a colossal no-bake cake?!”

**Hot Chocolate**

“Um, Tori…” Asgore ventured, stifling a small laugh as his ex-wife gave him a sharp look. It was a little undermined by the state of her nose. “I’m sorry, Toriel, but you have a little…ah…”

He gestured vaguely and she seemed to get the idea. Blushing, she ducked away to wipe the melted marshmallow and chocolate from her snout. How he would have loved to just nuzzle it away for her.

**Scarf**

“I have more scarves now than I know what to do with!” Papyrus lamented. “The silken silver the queen crocheted for me? The school cravat from Dr. Alphys? The golden ‘huffer-puff’ scarf gifted by our dear human?”

“You haven’t worn this one in months,” Sans remarked pensively, running his hands over ragged red edges. Papyrus might have noticed something in his tone, so he forced a grin and a shrug. “Or if you have, I just didn’t notice! Who knows? I am kind of a _knit_ -wit.”

**Music**

So that was what a working jukebox sounded like. Now, overlooking this fiasco from a corner booth, Grillby remembered why the one in his bar had been conveniently, indefinitely out-of-order. If the strains of “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree” spilled from that box one more time, the other patrons would probably riot.

**Snowflakes**

“T-Thank you,” Muffet chattered, huddling deeper into the toasty coat Grillby had draped over her shoulders. “You’re a dear…um, d-dearie. Huhuhu…maybe with you around to melt my heart, S-Surface winter won’t be so bad.”

With a crackling chuckle Grillby combed warm fingers through her hair, sparks melting away the flakes that dotted her bangs.

**Joy**

Sans was laughing—really, truly, _genuinely_. Clutching his sides, he laughed so hard that he started catching curious glances, but he didn’t seem to notice. Papyrus looked on in elated disbelief, his soul brimming with near-forgotten warmth.

Sans was always the one telling the jokes, but how long had it been since a beautiful sound like that had bubbled out of him? On any other day, Papyrus would have urged him to calm down and catch his breath but now he didn’t want it to end.

**Sweets**

“See, kid? This is the spirit of the season,” Sans announced with a lazy grin, brushing off a half-dozen stray wrappers. “Santa gets tons of sweets from other kids; you’re sparing him a food coma. Enjoy the prime years of your life, when your stomach’s the strongest. And me, I get to enjoy not having a stomach.”

Face down on the floor, Frisk offered a woozy thumbs-up with a sticky, chocolate-stained hand.

**Fuzzy Socks**

“It is a very thoughtful gift, young human, but I’m afraid these may be better suited for another monster!” Asgore said apologetically. “My winter coat suits me fine! I have no need for these fuzzy socks.” He trailed off, wincing a little as Frisk’s face fell. “B-But—oh, never mind, I’m certain I can find a use for them! Perhaps they can serve as horn warmers!”

**Sleigh Ride**

“Faster!” Undyne hollered, rocking eagerly back and forth and ignoring the exasperated glance of the driver. “Come on, sleigh man, can it go any faster?! Let’s get those horses pumped up! Hya-a-a-ah!”

“I-It’s not a roller coaster, Undyne!” Alphys squeaked, claws already scratching the edge of the seat in a life-or-death grip as the scenery blurred by.

**Mulled Wine**

“You anarchic _maniac!_ Sans, you vulgar, uncouth, uncivilized, discourteous, tasteless, uncivilized—!”

“You said that last one already,” he reminded Papyrus, the picture of innocence as he sipped from his glass. “Mmm. S’actually not bad.”

If Papyrus had eyes, they would no doubt be bulging out of his skull as he rounded on the refreshments table. “Stop! Nobody move! He’s poisoned the punch! I can scarcely believe—Agh, _ketchup!_ ”

**Candles**

Six warped, drooping candles burned before him, their light flickering weakly against the chill wind. Guilt stinging the back of his throat, Asgore cupped the cluster gingerly between his paws to shield them, careful not to touch.

He had nothing to relight them, should they be blown out. Even if he _were_ equipped, he didn’t have the right.

**Books**

“I’ll be Ghost of Christmas Future.”

“ _You?!_ Why do you get to be the cool, intimidating one? I wanna scare Scrooge’s spirit right out of his crusty old human body!” Undyne complained.

“’Cause I’m lazy and it’s the easiest one,” Sans chirped cheerfully. “No chatting, no fuss, just gesture him in the right direction! All I gotta do is give Scrooge a few…” Finger guns went off, barely visible in the folds of the ill-fitting black robe. “… _pointers_.”

“ _Ngahh!_ ”

**Ornaments**

“Oh! This is the Gyftmas ornament I made for you when I was but a babybones!” Papyrus sighed, rolling it gently between his palms. “I intended it to look like you, but I wasn’t yet the impressive artist you see before you now.”

“Hey, you were tryin’ your best. These early projects were what egg-nited your passion!” Giggling, Sans hurried to catch the egg as his irritated brother shoved it at him, leaving him to admire the scribbled eye sockets and crooked smile.

**Snowball Fight**

“…And if you come anywhere near us again, I’ll have your heads in my ovens! Now _scat!_ ” Muffet snarled—no teasing, no coy or pretty words. The human perpetrators obeyed, though every step they took away was another that Muffet wanted to renege her mercy. Maybe later. For now, the more pressing matter…

“Sit and stay, would you? Take your time,” she murmured. Grillby’s damp shoulders shook as he coughed and shuddered, smoke fuming where the watery slush had made contact.

**Miracle**

“I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, Sans! I’ll not have you sleeping in when it’s time to open our gifts!” Papyrus warned, his giddy smile betraying him. “Wowie, I—I just can’t wait!”

Sans could. He would. He would lie awake all night, steady and braced for the reset. The last three times, the kid took the coward’s way out the night before…It would be a Christmas miracle if they saw those presents opened.

**Apron**

“Bro. Papyrus. I don’t—What—What even is that?” For once Sans couldn’t think of anything clever to say about the _event_ happening on Pap’s front. “Is that…a _bush_ glued to your brand new apron?”

“Nyeheh, it may look that way to your untrained eye socket but these are, in fact, hundreds of sprigs of mistletoe! The human has informed me that it is a Christmas kissing plant—and while that the print on my apron _already_ suggests that cooks are quite kissable, in the spirit of the season I have decided to give even more incentive!”

**Coming Home**

Roots tracing the frosty panes of glass, Flowey glared as Frisk darted from friend to friend, wearing that stupid grin of theirs as they dumped presents into everybody’s laps. They didn’t deserve them.

What sort of presents would _Asriel_ have gotten if he had come home with them? Lame ones, he bet. It didn’t matter. He shouldn’t even care.

**Wrapping Paper**

“See, um, Papyrus…you’re usually supposed to put your gift in s-some kind of box first, then wrap the _box_ ,” Alphys explained with a hesitant smile as she gestured at the mountain of wrapped bones surrounding the Christmas tree. “W-When you dress the present on its own, a-and so tightly, it sort of gives away what it is…Although, you are neat about it, I’ll give you that…”

“Why, thank you! I _am_ rather neat!”

**Fairy Lights**

“We’ve seen lights like these before, you and I,” Toriel said lowly, drawing Asgore’s nervous eyes. “So many years ago. Do you remember?”

Did he remember a young prince walking with a beloved, gorgeous woman on his arm? Did he remember wishing on every hopeful spark they passed that he would one day have the courage to share the desire of his soul with her?

“Must you really ask?”

**Secrets**

This, above all others, would be his best-kept secret. Sans ought to be used to holding his peace in this life but for the first time in years, his excitement over this gift was weakening his resolve to make it safe. By now his teeth ached from smiling.

Patience was a virtue, he reminded himself, smoothing away a microscopic smudge on the car’s gleaming fender. He could only hope Pap wouldn’t shatter the windows with any supersonic screams of delight.

**Family**

At long last, Frisk reached for the box tucked behind all of the others. It was slim, the lightest of its kind and didn’t give any hints when they shook it, yet they couldn’t help but notice Toriel tearing up as she watched. She was still smiling—beaming, in fact, so that must be a good sign, right?

Signed adoption papers awaited underneath the ribbon.

**Reunions**

The roaring blizzards had set Papyrus’ travel back by a staggering time. Communication was down entirely, the roads blocked from most traffic, but because he too was a force of nature, he _did_ make it home. Eventually. The others would no doubt be concerned, having received no word of his whereabouts, so he kept a frostbitten smile on his face as he burst in with the wild winter wind.

The tears of relief and open arms, he had expected and looked forward to. Sans numb with grief and presuming him dead, less so.

**Wishes**

Sans didn’t believe in wishes. Wishes were, in translation, nothing but false hopes conjured up for disappointment later. But Papyrus’ shining eyes and eager prompting were impossible to deny. The love and laughter of his friends and family around him made it easy, just this once, to let his cynicism slip.

 _I wish this would last forever. I wish it will_.


End file.
